The dog had his say in the last post, and so it is time for the point of view of one of the supreme life forms on the planet, namely the cat. As always, she gets the last word.
7:05 AM. Waking up at home. Taking a
stretch and yawning. Slept well. Dreamed of clawing the vet’s face.
7:08 AM. An examination of the grounds
outside from one of the windows indicates that we’ve had frost again. More
leaves on the ground. Well, the season is wearing on, and all good things must
come to an end.
7:10 AM. Looking up at the ceiling. I can
hear sounds from upstairs, so the staff is awake. She’d better hurry up. She’s
got that work place to go to today, plus she has to feed me my breakfast, which
of course is the priority. I’m hungry, and I’ve already been up for a seemingly
interminable five minutes.
7:12 AM. Watching birds at the feeder. If I
was out there, I’d be stalking those flying lunches right now. But I’m in here
waiting for my staff to get downstairs.
7:21 AM. The staff finally comes
downstairs. I greet her with head bonks to the legs and persistent meowing.
It’s about time, staff, I was about to come up and yell at you. Now then, have
you thought of my breakfast yet? Because between you and me, I’m starving. Are
you aware that I’ve now been up a total of sixteen minutes and haven’t had my
breakfast needs seen to yet? I’m just saying.
7:22 AM. Following the staff into the
kitchen, explaining my breakfast preferences in great detail. Now I know that I
have told you this many times, staff, but you continue to be oblivious to my
requests. I do not have any need of those field rations, so don’t pour me a
bowl. I am perfectly content to have meat and milk, as is. And would it have
killed you to wake up a half hour earlier and put my plate in the fridge? I do
so like the slightly chilled plate for my breakfast. No, I am not high
maintenance, I can’t imagine why anyone would even think that.
7:24 AM. The staff puts down my breakfast
on the floor. The bowl of milk is welcome. The plate of chicken is even more
welcome. And yet for some inexplicable reason she persists in putting down a
bowl of field rations. I help myself to the first two in the equation.
7:26 AM. Licking my lips after finishing
breakfast. I have left the field rations alone. I shall let my staff eat in
peace.
7:38 AM. Sitting on the back of the couch,
staring out at the vastness of my domain. Distant barking out in the fields
from that annoying mutt. He’d better not think of coming around here
today.
7:47 AM. The staff is on her way out the
door. Farewell, staff. I shall see you when you get home. If you’re doing any
shopping, don’t forget the catnip.
7:56 AM. Watching the treeline from another
window. Movement out in the woods. On the one hand it could be a deer, or a
badger, or a bear, or, well, anything that lives in the woods. On the other
hand it could be that stupid dog.
7:57 AM. The annoying mutt has
stopped at the property line and is staring at the house. I tense up
automatically, prepared to unleash a storm of hisses and criticisms if he steps
onto my land.
7:58 AM. Against expectations, the foul
hound has withdrawn back into the woods. Good riddance if you ask me, and of
course you are asking me.
8:03 AM. Examining the calendar. Hallowe’en
is in a few days. Which of course means there’ll be trick or treaters at the
door. Which of course means some of them might have a big goofy dog along.
Which means I won’t be pleased at
all. Not one little bit.
8:14 AM. A cursory look at the clock
indicates that I have been up for more than an hour now. If you ask me, that’s
the ideal time to take a nap. As I’ve long argued, there is no such thing in
this world as too many naps.
10:31 AM. Waking up from my latest nap.
Taking a big stretch. Walking into kitchen. Realizing all too late that the
only food out and about are those field rations.
10:33 AM. After much debate, I have helped
myself to some of those field rations.
12:07 PM. Watching the noon broadcast for
the Weather Channel. That mentally unhinged forecaster is back again. You’d
think that after he had been pulled off the air for his rampant paranoia that
they wouldn’t let him back on again. Now he’s blathering on about what might be
the Mother Of All Hallowe’en Blizzards.
12:09 PM. The unhinged forecaster is taken
off by a producer. His cohost apologizes for the Donner Party remarks by her
associate.
1:31 PM. Woken up from my nap on the back
of the couch by distant barking. A glance at the clock confirms that the
mailman must be in the area. Stupid dog,
the guy is only doing what he’s paid to do. Why do dogs act like letter
carriers are serial killers anyway?
4:28 PM. Brooding as I stare outdoors,
watching flying lunches at the feeders. Why does my staff torment me so,
putting food out for flying lunches that I can’t get at?
5:22 PM. Greeting the staff as she comes in
the front door, home from work, toting a couple of grocery bags. Well then,
staff, did you bring the catnip I requested?
5:25 PM. Supervising the staff as she deals
with the groceries. She puts some meat in the freezer, beyond my reach
unfortunately. Among her other purchases, she’s also picked up some of those
Hallowe’en candies in the much too small sizes. Two questions, staff. Why do
they make them that small? And second, why do you persist in claiming chocolate
isn’t good for a cat?
6:38 PM. Dinner with the staff. She’s cut
up a plate of stewing beef for me. More of it she’s put into a stew for
herself. I don’t know why anyone would want mushrooms with perfectly good meat,
but admittedly humans sometimes baffle
me.
8:57 PM. Lying in the living room, on the
staff’s lap, pondering the great mysteries of life. Do cats get away with
literally everything simply by the power of the purr?
11:25 PM. The staff is off to bed. Very
well, staff, good night, sleep well, but do keep the door open. In case I feel
like walking all over you at three thirty in the morning, I don’t like being
hindered by a closed door. And in case a pre-Hallowe’en ghost shows up, I’ll be
in need of bolting upstairs and making you deal with it.
I can tell the diary portion was actually written by your cat. I dont let my cat use my computer when I'm gone. Besides, she only wants to use it preisely when I'm using it. These pictures are all so good! And 100% true!
ReplyDeleteCats rule!
DeleteI still say you were a cat in another incarnation!
ReplyDeleteLove Grumpy Cat!
She's the best!
DeleteLove all the cat photos. Love the kitten sleeping in the cone of shame with the gud dug.
ReplyDeletecheers, parsnip and badger
They're buddies.
DeleteLOL I like the cat asleep in the dogs collar cone rofl
ReplyDeleteThanks!
DeleteDreamed of clawing the vet's face. LOL
ReplyDeleteJust the sort of thing a cat would do.
Delete